Operation Black Night
by lavalata
Summary: Alex Rider is now eighteen and MI-6 have forced him to work with other highly trained agents. now he has to fight to stay alive, there will be new friends and old enemies, and some who my be both.
1. Chapter 1

Operation; Pack

Disclaimer; I do not own Alex Rider, or any of Anthony Horowitz's Characters. Please don't sue me I have no money.

Author's Note; Ok so this is rated R for a reason; there will be swearing, adult situations, and hopefully some explosions. If that kind of thing offends you don't read it. If you review I will update faster, flames are also welcome as they make me laugh.

Much love,

Lavalata

Operation; Pack

Chapter One; Welcome Home

Alex Rider walked along the street toward his house. It was raining, and he tugged his ball-cap down over his eyes. Water dripped down his back. He had been followed, for most of the day by a black BMW, always a few hundred feet away. But still he knew, they were waiting for him to do something. He just wasn't sure what _something _was.

Alex turned abruptly down an alley, then up on to the top of a dumpster. From there he pulled himself up onto a fire-escape, then up the ladder slick with rain. It was difficult going but he made it to the forth floor before the men in the car could follow him.

He knew the apartment was for rent, there had been signs out front of the building all week. Alex jammed his elbow into the window, the glass shattering into the empty room.

He climbed through and hurried out into the main room, and straight into MI-6 Agent John Crawley.

"Now, now Alex, where do you think you're going?" Agent Crawley pushed Alex face first into the wall.

"Hold still." He said, pulling off Alex's backpack and tugging his arms behind his back.

"Now Alex no great escape attempts alright?" Crawley slapped a pair of handcuffs on him. "Just in case." Crawley said. "Now nice and easy out to the car. You know the one. It's been following you all day."

Agent Crawley grabbed him by the arm, and they walked silently down the four flights of stairs and out to the waiting car.

"In we get." Agent Crawley pushed Alex into the back middle seat, than slid in next to him.

"Where are we going?" Alex asked as soon as the door closed.

"Sorry Alex, I can't tell you that." Crawley paused then continued. "Look if you promise not to make a run for it we can go to your house so you can pack some things. Alright?"

Alex nodded his head; they obviously wanted him pretty badly this time. And he did want some of the things from his house.

They pulled up in front of the brown stone Alex called home. Crawley slid out taking Alex with him; they walked into the house flanked by the other two agents.

"Where's Jack?" Alex asked, she had been there this morning when he left.

"She's been removed to the states. Don't worry about her. I've made sure she is with her family." Crawley said.

"Are you going to unlock these?" Alex asked turning and holding out his hands.

"Sorry Alex," Crawley said laughing. "I saw the reports on you escape in Edinburgh. You can tell me what to pack."

"Fine. All of the photographs, they're in that album on the shelf there. And the Agatha Christie books on the middle shelf. There is a duffle bag you can put them in, in the hall closet." Alex looked around the room again, wishing he could take all of the things in it with him.

"Anything else?" Crawley asked.

"Yeah, the gun in the desk drawer. Careful it's loaded. And my clothes, they're upstairs."

"Any preference?"

"Blue jeans, and T-Shirts, and the jacket in the closet." Alex said, the other agents each grabbed one of his arms to lead him out of the house. Alex tugged them to a stop.

"My uncle's and my dad's dog tags are in my bedside table drawer. Can you get them to?" Alex asked.

"Yeah Alex, I'll get them." Crawley promised.

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Alex was so tiered. He had been up for hours. First they had driven under the Channel, and then on to Paris for a short stop at a bank that was of course was not really a bank. Then he had been put in the back of an armored truck. Now they had been driving for ages, at least six hours.

His arms were killing him, Crawley had refused to let him go. To be fair he had a good reason. Alex had broken out of the car the last time Crawley had tried to transport him. Still to be understanding while ridding in the back of an icy cold armored truck soaking wet from the rain was difficult.

Suddenly the truck slowed and then speed up then stopped again. The truck turned off and the doors opened. Alex scrambled to his feet squinting out into the dark.

"Hello Alex." Said a very familiar voice.

"Blunt." Alex acknowledged, the two agents gripped his arms and pulled him out into a gated courtyard.

"How are you doing tonight Alex?" Blunt asked.

"Piss off Blunt. What's your scam this time?" Alex snapped as the agents manhandled him into a building that looked like some kind of military bunker.

"Nice to see you again Alex. It has been a while." A woman in a gray suit, and sucking on a peppermint said.

"Mrs. Jones." Alex greeted her with a scowl.

"How long has he been in those wet clothes?" Mrs. Jones asked Crawley.

"Um, since we picked him up." Crawley looked at his feet. "I was worried he might try and slip away again."

"Well I hardly think he has anywhere to go here. Take him to change and then bring him to the conference room." Mrs. Jones said she was halfway to the door when she turned around on her high-heel. "Welcome home Alex." She said.

He would have come up with a snappy retort but the agents were already hauling him off into the bunker, Crawley following behind them.

They wound their way down several dim, concrete corridors until they came to a door. Crawley unlocked the handcuffs.

"There's a towel in there along with your bag…sans gun I might add. Alex please no funny business ok?" Crawley practically begged.

"Yeah, Yeah what ever." Alex said shoving his way passed the agents.

At least the facilities had been updated since the bunkers conception. Alex striped down and folded his wet clothing and put them by the bag. No need to give them a reason to toss out some of his favorite jeans.

Alex stepped into the shower and thanked god for hot water heaters. Twenty minuets later Crawley was banging on the door, and Alex reluctantly shut off the shower and got dressed in another pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt. As an after thought he added both his father's and his uncle's dog tags tucking them inside his shirt to hang next to the golden cylinder he always wore.

When Alex left the room Crawley relived him of his bag, and passed it off to another agent. Crawley led him down another maze of passages and Alex was shoved into the conference room, though perhaps he should call it the debriefing room. This was MI-6 after all. Crawley pushed Alex into a chair at the end of the table and pulled his arms behind him locking them together with zip ties.

"Nice welcome." He said to Tulip Jones the MI-6 deputy director who was sitting at the other end of the table.

"Considering our last debriefing when you tried your best to strangle Mr. Blunt, I think I'm being more than reasonable." She said, popping a red and white stripped peppermint into her mouth.

"You threatened to deport Jack." Alex said.

"Well now we have Alex. You're eighteen, and you are going to volunteer for MI-6. If you don't the Americans will be arresting Jack and holding her with out charges or bail under the Patriot Act. She will spend the rest of her life in prison if you refuse." Mrs. Jones said, absentmindedly tapping her pen against a manila folder.

Alex stared at the stainless steel table in font of him; he didn't really have a choice. Jack had sacrificed every thing for him, having a normal life, a boy friend, a family; he wouldn't sentence her to a life spent in an American prison.

"How long?" Alex asked. He clenched his teeth together. "How long would I have to serve?"

"Till you are old enough to retire." She answered.

"How long is that?" Alex asked.

"You would be fifty five." She said, her pen no longer tapping.

"I'll be an old man." Alex said, his chest clenching at what he was about to do. "I'm in."

"Good. We have several procedures we need to perform then you will be debriefed for your first mission." Mrs. Jones waved her hand and Crawley and the other agents lifted him by his arms and lead him out of the room, just before he reached the hallway he turned around.

"I'll come after you, you know. When I'm out. I'll get you… you and Blunt. I'll make both of you pay." He swore.

"I know." She said. And then Alex was dragged out of the room and down the dark hallway.

"So where to now?" He asked Crawley. "Are we going to go see the ghost of my Christmas's past."

"Don't get smart Alex. Just a few simple procedures and then you can get some sleep." Crawley led Alex through a door and into what looked like a dentist office.

"Good it's been a hell of a day." Alex snarked.

"I hate to brake it to you Alex but it's about to get a lot worse." Crawley said as he clipped the zip ties on Alex's wrists with a pair of scissors pushing him into the chair. Crawley tied his wrists to the arms of the chair with two more zip ties from one of his pockets.

"What's the game Crawley?" Alex demanded but Crawley wasn't listening to him.

"We're all good in here Doctor you may enter." Crawley called out and the door opened admitting a man in a white lab coat.

"What are you doing?' Alex asked; as his head was forced forward and his shirt collar pulled down to reveal his neck.

"This is a tracking devise," the man in the lab coat said holding up what looked like a plastic gun. 'We implant it in your neck and it provides a GPS latitude and longitude of your location. Hold still and it wont hurt as much." The Doctor grabbed the scruff of Alex's neck and put the gun against his skin.

"Slight pinch." The Doctor said and Alex felt like his neck had burst into flames.

"Shit." Alex swore, wrenching away from the people holding him. 'You call that a fucking slight pinch?' Alex snapped.

"All done now Alex." Crawley said, and the doctor left. His hands were released and he held them out to Crawley.

"You going to tie me up?" He asked, Crawley smiled and snapped another pair of zip ties around his wrists. "I hope you guys have stock in a zip tie company. At the rate you use them MI-6 could keep them in business all by their lonesome." Crawley didn't comment just lead Alex further down the hall where they were joined by Mrs. Jones. Still none of them spoke. Alex because he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of asking where they were going, and the agents because they were unaccustomed to explaining anything they did. They made their way down several ramps and then onto an industrial sized elevator.

There was only one button in the elevator but there where two solders with AK-47's and grenades inside it. It didn't take long for the lift to stop. Alex guessed they went down two floors. The doors opened on a dark hallway and the armed guards followed them out of the lift.

The small hallway opened up into a large room that looked very much like a warehouse. It was huge, with pitched ceilings, and metal walls with steal girders punctuated with what looked like submarine doors every few meters.

The furnishing were sparse, but there was a couch and some mismatched arm chairs clustered around a flat screen TV, a pool table, and a long stainless steel table much like the one in the debriefing room. Alex wondered if they bought them in bulk. And all around the table were people. And armed guards, one behind each of them. At the head of the table was Director Alan Blunt.

Crawley led Alex over to the only vacant chair and he sat down.

"Well," said Blunt. "Now that we are all assembled." He handed a large stack of folders to one of the agents behind him and he began to pass them out. Alex would have flipped through the one placed in front of him but his hands were still zip tied behind his back.

"I know that all of you usually work alone, but that is no longer the case. Please meet your new teammates." Blunt said, smirking for the first time since Alex had met him.

But Blunt did not hold his attention for long, his new "teammates" were far more intriguing. He examined them closely, working his way counter-clockwise around the table.

The boy immediately to his left couldn't have been more than fourteen years old, with curly hair that fell in a mop over his head. He was wearing a bright green shirt, with some kind of picture on it.

Then there was a man, with dirty brown hair, who was probably around twenty seven or twenty eight.

Next to him was a girl, blond and very pretty with blue eyes and a murderous expression aimed at Blunt. She was about sixteen or seventeen. Then Alan Blunt at the head of the table, unchanged in all the years Alex had known him.

After Blunt came a surprise. It was wolf. The SAS man Alex had gone through training with. He smiled slightly at Alex when their eyes met, and gave him a nod of hello. Alex nodded back. He and Wolf had a sort of truce, maybe even a friendship.

Then there was another young kid with short spiky brown hair about sixteen years old, and starring morosely at the table.

After him was another girl, Alex put her age at any were between twenty seven and thirty years old with black hair cut stylishly to just below her chin with bangs covering her forehead.

Next was another surprise, more of a surprise then Wolf had been, because Alex was sure that this man was dead. Because Alex was sure he had watched him die on board Air Force One.

Yassen Gregorovich. Sitting across the table from him looking older but very much alive. He winked at Alex when he saw him staring, and Alex quickly averted his gaze to the next person at the table.

The other head of the table was occupied by a woman. Her hair was startlingly white and so was her skin, her nose was slightly hooked and sharp gray eyes took every thing in. Despite her hair color Alex was pretty sure she was only as old as Yassen.

Then there was a girl, with dark hair cut short and styled with product, she was his age, Alex guessed. And even though she wasn't the definition of perfect beauty there was some thing about her that screamed confidence.

There was an older man, after the girl. He had tufty blond hair that was streaked with gray and he sat in his chair like it was a throne. After him was a brunette girl about fifteen years old who seemed to be dosing.

And next to Alex was a man, not much older then he, slumped over and taking breaths in a way that told Alex he had a t least two cracked ribs. His left eye was blackened and a cut through his eyebrow was leaking blood down his check. It was impossible to tell his nationality, he could have been a light skinned Indian or middle eastern, or a tan Caucasian, his dark hair was cut very short, and a medallion of some sort hung from his neck.

Blunt was speaking again. "For the next three months you will live together, eat together, and train together. You will be perfect. When the alarm sounds you will have twenty minuets to get ready to go. If you need any thing, tell Crawley here and he'll get it for you. Any questions?" Blunt scanned the table. "Alright, the file that is given to you contains all the information you will need on your new team mates. Your room has your code name on the door. Have a nice night." Blunt stood, and left the room his agent detail following in his wake. One of the many other agents passed around folders, setting them on the table in front of the 'team.'

"Every one against the wall." Crawley said, and Alex was yanked to his feet once more and shoved into a cold metal wall. "You are all to remain still as we unlock your hands. You will not move until the alarm sounds." Alex felt the ties on his hands being cut, but he didn't move. It just wasn't worth it. He couldn't win and he really only wanted to go to sleep.

Apparently every one else had the same idea, because no one moved until a loud blaring echoed through the room. Then there was a flurry of movement. Alex turned around and was suddenly face to face with Wolf.

"Hello Cub." Wolf said, holding out his hand. Alex took it and gave a firm squeeze.

"It's Hawke, now actually. But Alex works to." Wolf grinned.

"It'll be good to work together again. See you in the morning…Cub." Wolf turned and snatched his folder off the table, then disappeared into the door with 'Wolf' written on it.

Alex smiled; he would enjoy working with Wolf. He was about to collect his own file when another man blocked his path.

"Hello Yassen, your looking rather better then I expected." Alex snarled, glaring at the former SCORPIA assassin.

"I guess I am minus a few worms. It is good to see you again Alex, I have heard a great many things about the man you have become. I can't wait to see if they are true." Yassen began to walk away.

"Hey Yassen, beobachten Sie meinen Rücken, wenn ich Sie war. Streukugeln geschehen sogar mit den besten Meisterschützen." Alex called. _I would watch my back if I were you. Stray bullets happen even to the best marksmen. _

Yassen Laughed and disappeared through one of the doors. Alex was about to try and find his own cell when he heard the low moan. It was coming from the man who had sat next to Alex at the table, at some point he seemed to have slumped to the floor and was having some problems regaining his feet.

Alex, might have ignored him like every one else had, but he couldn't help remembering all the times MI-6 had left him to yank himself up with an injury.

"Here let me help." Alex said kneeling down and hooking one of the man's arms around his shoulder.

"Thanks." Alex and the man made it to their feet with out to much difficulty.

"What's your code name?" Alex asked.

"Jaguar. The door's over there." He raised his arm that wasn't draped around Alex's shoulders keeping him upright, and pointed to a door across the room. The room was basic, and military. There was a bed that was a little bigger then a twin, a plastic footlocker, two bed side tables, and a desk. The covers on the bed were military green, and tan. Every thing was simple.

"Welcome to MI-6's version of gourmet living." Alex said setting Jaguar down on the bed. "You got a first aid kit in your stuff?" He asked.

"Yeah it's in the backpack." Jaguar said. Alex soon found the kit, it was much better stocked then a normal kitchen one.

"How did you end up like this any way?" Alex asked.

"MI-6 didn't like my reaction to their invitation to join this little party, apparently they don't like it when you beat up their agents. I couple of them worked me over once I was chained up." Jaguar wiped some of the blood off of his face. "Thanks for the help, uh I don't actually know who you are."

"Oh, Alex Rider or Hawke if you prefer." Alex said holding out his hand.

"Kale Firth, every one calls me Jag." Jag took Alex's hand and the shook.

"It's good to meet you Jag. I'll see you in the morning then."

"Bright and early, if I know Blunt, the gray-faced weasel." Alex laughed and made his way to his own room. It was a carbon copy of Jag's room. Crawley or some other agent had put all of his stuff on the bed. On top of the duffle were the gun and a note from Crawley.

Alex

Sorry, no bullets. Sleep well.

Crawley

Alex laughed, poor Crawley. He was always falling for Alex's tricks. He reached into his shirt and removed the chain with the decorative gold tube on it. Alex unscrewed the top and poured a single bullet into his palm. When would they learn to stop underestimating him? Alex slid the bullet into the gun's chamber and slipped it under his pillow. 


	2. Chapter 2

Operation; Black Night

AN; OK so I guess I need to explain some things, like why MI-6 didn't just use Jack to force Alex out of hiding, and such. Well the answer is that there was originally a prolog to this story that explained this, but I thought it wasn't needed for the story. Though now I can see that isn't necessarily true. So if enough people review and ask for it I will add the prolog. I also wanted to say that the reason I didn't use Russian for Alex and Yassen's tête-à-tête is that I couldn't find an online translator that spelled Russian phonetically. If any one knows a good one I will be more then happy to change it in the first chapter. I just wanted to give y'all a heads up that I won't be updating for a month or so because I'm off to Europe and I don't want to take my laptop with me. I will however update the moment I get back. Scouts honor.

Ok so enough with the author's note.

Happy reading

Lavalata

Operation; Black Night

Chapter Two; Learning to Trust

"How many of our bugs are still operational?" Mrs. Jones asked Blunt as she walked into the debriefing room.

"Three of them, Zach Trent, Veronica Charles, and Kale Firth." Blunt turned in his high backed black leather chair and slipped on a pair of earphones. "Our agents seem to have some interesting sleeping habits."

"Oh?" Mrs. Jones said.

"Well if our bugs are working properly Zach Trent is having wild sex, possibly with more then one partner. And Veronica Charles wrangled a private show from all five members of Queen." Blunt's mouth twitched in what would have been an all out laugh from anyone else. "I forgot how loud Freddie Mercury is."

"He's dead." Mrs. Jones said absently, opening a file and taking a seat in a chair next to Blunt.

"No he was just relocated."

"Hmm, who does the third bug belong to?" Mrs. Jones asked.

"Kale Firth, I think he was too sore to check his room. Agents Johnson and Frankston worked him over pretty good." Blunt opened the file on Kale Firth.

"I've reprimanded them both but the damage is done. Do you think he needs medical attention?" Mrs. Jones pulled out a sheet of paper that held a record of Firth's medical history.

"No he made it to his room; with the help of Alex Rider. I think he'll be alright." Blunt snapped his folder closed.

"How do you think this is going to work out?" Mrs. Jones said sitting down in her own chair.

"What do you mean?" Blunt asked.

"Half of them have been working against each other for most of their careers. They work alone. And I still don't know about putting Alex and Yassen within a hundred miles of each other."

"They will adapt or they won't." Blunt said. "Tomorrow we will find out which."

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_Squish!_ Alex hit the ground for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The mud drenched him from head to toe, seeping into his fatigues and chilling Alex to the bone. They had all been running obstacle courses since six in the morning.

Alex crawled forward on his elbows and knees, his assault rifle- his unloaded assault rifle- held ready as he made his way under two hundred feet of barbed wire. This was the fourth time he had made the grueling journey through the five mile long obstacle course. It was filled with rock walls, rope bridges that would fall apart after a certain weight had been put on it, and lengths of water nine feet deep. Every time they went through it things got harder and harder.

Alex paused for a minuet and looked back.

"How are you doing Jag?" Alex called to the man behind him. He had read all about Jag last night in the file. He was twenty-one, with training in Krav Maga and a degree in bio-physics, and ancient warfare.

"Ok, I hate this mud shit though. You?" Jag used his rifle to prop himself up out of the mud.

"Shit is in all the wrong places." Alex wriggled forward a little further and was rewarded with a face full of mud, sprayed by the boot of the kid in front of him. Alex grunted but didn't say anything. He was already caked in the stuff and one more face full wouldn't hurt.

"Sorry." The kid said. Alex thought for a minuet and pulled up what he had read about him. Joseph Simmons, code named Coyote, sixteen years old, brown hair, green eyes, born in Cornwall England, training in martial arts, ranked an expert marksman, and also responsible for hacking into Microsoft's headquarters and changing their screen savers to say 'I Love Apple.' Alex had only met him briefly that morning, but he had to hand it to the kid. He did have stamina. Joseph had managed to stay ahead of Alex all day.

"No problem. How are you holding up Joseph?" Alex asked.

"I'm alright, and it's Coyote." Coyote turned and offered his hand. Alex smiled through the mud and shook it.

"Hawke." Alex motioned behind him, "and this is Jag." Jag nodded his muck covered head.

"Nice to meet you." Coyote rolled out from under the barbed wire and held out his hand first to Alex and then to Jag.

"How long do you think they're gonna make us run this damn course?" Coyote said as the three of them jogged toward a climbing wall.

"Till we can't move if I know MI-6." Alex said letting his gun swing around to hang at his back and pulling himself up onto the wall. Jag and Coyote were right behind him. They made it to the top of the wall, Jag was clutching his side but his eyes told Alex not to comment.

Down the other side was a pool, deep and muddy after having the 'team' swim through it. Alex heaved a sigh of resignation and jumped feet first into the water. He swam to the other side and had almost pulled himself out when he was offered another hand. This one belonged to Yassen Gregorovich.

"Need a hand Alex?" Yassen asked his accent flawless.

"Go to hell, Yassen." Alex snapped. He hauled him self the rest of the way out and brushed past Yassen to the next obstacle. A pit with logs sticking up out of it creating a complicated path. The idea being to use the tops of the logs like stepping stones to get to the other side. Alex made it half way across before Yassen caught up with him. Most people wouldn't have realized the blow was coming but he wasn't most people.

Alex had been expecting it as soon as he got ahead of the SCORPIA assassin; Yassen rammed his booted foot into the back of Alex's knee. Or at least he would have if Alex's knee had still been there. At the last minuet Alex launched himself forward, dropping into the pit and grabbing hold of the log in front of him. Yassen over balanced and dropped as well, and as he passed Alex managed a snap kick to his shoulder. Yassen hit the ground in a roll coming up in front of Alex. He turned and saluted, then continued on the course. Point one Yassen.

God Alex hated this place.

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Alex ran the course three more times before they were allowed to come in, Jag and Coyote finished with him. Alex liked them. Coyote was young, but smart and Jag's biting humor kept them from collapsing from exhaustion. Still, trust was something none of them gave easily. And they kept their distance, never talking about anything personal.

The thirteen of them stood in the large grassy space in the middle of the course, dripping with sweat, grime, and all manner of other shit, panting and only just managing to hold their head's up.

The drill sergeant marched back and forth in front of them, his own fatigues sparklingly clean.

"You will deposit your guns in the trunk, then line up facing the fence. You will place you hands behind your back and stand still while the agents cuff you. GO!" He shouted, Alex wondered if they taught that shout to all drill sergeants or if they searched the ranks high and low for people born with it. No one moved. It seemed as though the 'team' wasn't going to comply as readily as they had the night before.

Sure they were tiered, probably more tiered then they had been last night. But after a whole day of the Sergeant yelling at them and giving orders, of agents tying their hands up and alarms blaring at six in the morning they had all just about had enough.

Yassen was the first to act, instead of dumping his rifle in the trunk he slung it off his shoulder and tossed it on the ground in front of him. The brown haired man, whose name was Cody Michaels did the same, the others all following suit. The agents at the side of the field began to move in, sensing trouble. This was going to be good.

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Back in the debriefing room Mrs. Jones and Director Blunt watched the monitor of the training field.

"This should be good." Blunt said.

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Three hours later Alex was back in the bunker in his cell nursing a bruised cheek, and split knuckles. But it had been worth it. They had beaten the shit out of the agents, and they probably would have continued to do so if a squad of marines hadn't been sent in to subdue them. They may have been pissed but they weren't stupid. The surrender was quick and relatively painless. And if they happened to trod on a few of the agents as they were marched back to the bunker under gun point it was just a bonus.

Still the message was clear. Don't push us to hard, or there would be consequences.

A knock sounded at Alex's door and he got up to open it. It was Wolf, baring a split lip and a beer.

"Want one?" He asked. "Fox smuggled them in. We figured we had better drink them before they're confiscated." Alex nodded his head and Wolf lead Alex out to where Cody Michaels or Fox was handing out beer bottles to every one over eighteen. Alex took the one passed to him and smiled his thanks before joining Jag on the decrepit couch.

"How's your head?" Alex asked, smirking.

"Not to bad, how's your jaw?" Alex just grinned; he had been itching for a fight ever since MI-6 had picked him up. Now he felt infinitely better, even if he had a few minor lacerations.

Wolf sat down next to Alex and clinked his and Alex's beer together.

"Cheers." Wolf said, taking another swig. "I'm Wolf," he said to Jag.

"Jag." Every one knew introductions weren't really necessary. They all had the files, but it just seemed weird not to introduce them selves.

"How are Eagle and Snake?" Alex asked Wolf, as he took a swig of beer.

"Good, last I heard they were working for the army in the south east. We write to each other some times." Wolf said, his eyes following Yassen who was playing pool with Veronica Charles. "Do you know who he is?" Wolf asked Alex.

"What's in the file? Or do you mean who he really is." Alex murmured, dropping his voice so only Jag and Wolf could hear him.

"I thought I recognized him from some where. Who is he?" Wolf said, keeping his own voice low and hardly moving his lips.

"His name is right, Yassen Gregorovich. He was a SCORPIA assassin, last I saw him he still was. Of course last I saw him he was also dead." Alex explained.

"You've had run-ins with him before?" Jag asked.

"A couple of times. He's good. Actually he's one of the best. We don't really get on." Alex took another swig of beer. "Look, MI-6 obviously has some thing on him to keep him in line. Or they think they do." Alex paused to glance over at Veronica and Yassen, they looked friendly. In fact Alex would bet that they knew each other from some where. "Any one got any cards?" Alex asked breaking the heavy silence.

"Sure," the dark haired girl said, blowing a stream of smoke out of her mouth, and pulling a deck from her cargo pants pocket. "I'm Ace." She said sitting down in an armchair and shuffling the cards. Alex thought for a minuet, her real name was Mariska Devanov. She had worked for the Russian Secret Service, and had martial arts and gymnastics training.

"That's Hawke, Jag, and I'm Wolf." Wolf said picking up his cards.

"Hey Sting!" She called, "come on lets whip these guys at poker." The blond girl smiled and joined the group.

"I'm Amelia." She said, tossing down two cards. "I want two." She said. The game progressed, with wins going mostly to Ace and Wolf. Eventually the game dispersed, Wolf and Sting heading to their rooms, and Jag playing a round out pool with Coyote.

"I know you." Ace said, smiling at Alex.

"Huh?" Alex said, confused he was pretty sure he would remember meeting Ace. She was one of those girls who made quite the impression. "I don't think so." He said.

Ace laughed and shuffled the cards again. "In Berlin. Of course you were to busy running from MI-6 to notice." The memory clicked in Alex's mind. She was the one who had shot him with the knock-out dart allowing MI-6 to capture him.

"Bitch." Alex said, Ace laughed again.

"I didn't get a chance to apologize before, so sorry."

"S'ok."

"So how'd they finally get you?" She asked. "What are they holding over your head?"

"How do you know they're holding some thing over my head?" Alex asked gulping down the last of his beer.

"How do you think they got any of us?" Ace said propping her feet on the coffee table. "People like us aren't really the volunteer type. Sting's sister is in foster care, if she doesn't do what they say they're going to put her in an institution. Coyote's got an arrest record as long as the thymes and he gets put into a detention center unless he cooperates. They have to have insurance with high risk agents. If they don't things could go wrong very fast."

"So what do they have on you?" Alex asked.

"My brother's visa. He goes back to Russia if I step out." Ace tucked the cards back in her pocket.

"Would that be so bad?" He said.

"My brother is a wanted man in Russia. So yes, it would be that bad. So what do they have on you? I've read your dossier and you don't have any family. A girlfriend perhaps?" Ace smiled and ran her fingers through her short dark brown hair, the spikes springing back into place.

"They've got my old guardian Jack." Alex said, trying to take another sip of beer only to find it empty.

"You see MI-6 does not trust anyone. Not even their own people. Do you know that they have threatened to send Wolf's old team on a suicide mission unless he keeps working for them? Fucking MI-6." Ace threw her beer bottle into the trash can. "Well good night Hawke, it was nice to finally meet you." She unfolded her self from her chair and strode off to her room.

"Fucking MI-6." Alex agreed. Well tomorrow was another day.

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AN- OK so I know it was short but I am just so busy! I will update in one month, and I'm kinda expecting some flames because I think this chapter sucked. You know how some chapters just seem to write them selves? This so wasn't one of them. Don't hate me! The next one will be better, I promise.

Thanks for reading

Lavalata


	3. Chapter 3

Hey every one

Ok so this is a reposting of chapter 3 because I messed up one of the characters names! Yikes, I am really sorry. Ok so on to the main Authors note.

So sorry about how long it has taken to upload this chapter, my most sincere apologies! My only excuse is that life has been crazy. As for the questions on pairing? Well I guess you will just have to read and find out. Hopefully I will be able to update more frequently in the future. Also a big thanks to all of you who reviewed you made it so I could finally get this chapter out!

Much love

Lavalata

_Chapter 3; What Was_

_Two Years Ago, Berlin, Germany_

_Click…click…click. Mariska Devanov adjusted the scope on her Dragunov 7.62 mm SVD Sniper Rifle and pressed her eye lightly to the scope. There across the square, just walking out of the U-Bahn station on Marktplatz Strasse. He was younger then she had expected, the same age as she was. Maybe a year older. _

_Mariska felt a shiver run through her as she pulled her coat more tightly around her the wind whipping her short hair across her scalp. The last thing she wanted to do was pull the trigger, silently she prayed that the boy would turn around and go back down the steps to the U-Bahn. But he didn't, he just tugged his baseball cap down over his eyes and plodded steadily out across the street, his wool coat catching the flurries of snow that were dancing their way merrily to the ground to fulfill their purposes and become the brown sludge covering the cobble stones. _

_Mariska bit her lip and adjusted her rifle one last time. Snack. The sound of the hypodermic dart was almost inaudible to her ears over the hustle and bustle of down town Berlin. In all honesty the boy never should have been able to do what he did. A moment before the dart hit his head snapped up and for a moment she was sure he looked right at her hiding place. And then the dart hit and he jerked in surprise. _

_Mariska watched as he took two stumbling steps and then sunk to the ground. By the time the ground agents had picked him up she was already half way down the twenty floor staircase. _

_Two Years Ago, Shropshire, England_

_Joseph Simmons tapped hurriedly away at his key board. He was in trouble. One hour ago he had been leisurely breaking a highly encrypted bank security system; every thing was going as planned. That is until he had walked-cyberneticly- right into to a government slush fund disguised as the personal accounts for some French playboy lord. And now his computer had been tagged and if he didn't manage to hack into the SAS database and erase his tracks he was in deep shit. The kind of shit you didn't ever get out of._

_Joseph punched in a series of code and held his breath. If it worked he was in the clear, out of cash but in the clear. And he could always hack in and get more money, just not right now. And probably not for the next couple of months. Just to be sure. _

_There was a sudden loud beep, and his computer's screen froze. Another beep later and the screen went dark._

_"Shit." He cursed, flinging the laptop to the ground and snatching his coat off his bed. It was time to get gone. He was getting tired off Shropshire any how. True his foster parents were going to be in some trouble but there was no reason for him to stick around and take the fall. He didn't owe them anything. After tugging on his jacket he opened his window and hoped out onto the conveniently placed tree that led to the also conveniently placed garden. Honestly who put a repeat run away in a room with such a great escape route? Probably recommended by some physiologist peddling their mumbo jumbo about trust and benefits of the doubt or some shit._

_A minuet later and he was down the tree and over the neighbor's hedge. He was half way down the street by the time he heard sirens. Still he didn't run. Running attracted attention, so he continued on at a brisk walk. On the run again. _

_Two Years Ago, London, England_

_Jag flipped Special Agent Johnson of MI-6 over the side of the yacht's railing. There was splash and a yelp, most likely due to the freezing temperature of the Thames. The now water logged agent's partner cursed and threw him self at Jag only to find himself joining his friend in the "Great Stink." More cursing followed, as Jag trotted to the wheel house and revved the motor boats engines. _

_The was a loud, "FUCK!" Over the sound of the motor and he chuckled to himself and throttled the boat forward at high speed. _

_"Catch me if you can." Jag smirked, turning so he could see the man emerging from the cabin. Tall, with short cropped black hair, and celery green eyes he was the most beautiful man Jag had ever seen._

_"MI-6 taken care of?" Thomas asked wrapping his arms around Jag's waist and pressing a kiss into his neck. _

_"As good as gone." He said, zipping around a slow moving barge. And throttling down to a slower pace. _

_"Good…then they won't be around to interfere with me." Thomas said his hand slipping down and grabbing the gun holstered at Jag's hip and pressing it into his lower back. Jag froze his hands gripping hard on the wheel._

_"What are you? Vojenske Zpravodajstri? Italian AISE?" Jag snapped._

_"American actually, NSA." Thomas said, his voice smiling though Jag couldn't see it._

_"And I am now in your custody?" Jag asked._

_"That is the general idea. You see my country is in need of some serious leverage with the United Kingdom. And you my friend are just the sort of trade we need to get back in their good books." As Thomas talked he removed all of Jag's hidden weapons from his person._

_"So when we met?" Jag asked hating him self for needing to know._

_"Sorry, it was just to good to pass up." _

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"Do you think they're ready?" Blunt asked Mrs. Jones.

"No. But we need to move on this, and I can't see another way of doing it." Mrs. Jones popped a peppermint into her mouth and sucked on it for a few moments before she signed the order on her desk. She and Blunt were sitting in her office and had been since three that morning. They had been discussing the same thing the entire time. Was the team of highly trained agents ready for combat? Mrs. Jones still wasn't sure, but there was nothing quite like trial by fire to test new subjects.

"Will the mission be a success?" Blunt questioned from the only other chair in the room.

"Yes, most probably they will be successful." She answered signing another copy of the document.

"Will they survive?" Blunt asked.

"Questionable." Mrs. Jones hesitated before she signed the last of the papers.

"Well if they don't, call in their replacements and clean up. The insurance policies will have to be retired. We can't have them asking questions." Blunt said rising from his chair and leaving the room, quiet as a shadow and about as interesting.

Mrs. Jones sighed, he was right of course, if the mission was a failure they would have to kill all of the people they had been blackmailing the agents with. After all they were practically the only ones who knew the agents existed, and they were definitely the only ones who cared.

One way or another she would be the one to clean up the mess.

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Ok so that's it! Review even if you think it sucks, I have a tough skin I can take it!

Much love

Lavalata 


	4. Chapter 4

Ok so here are the warnings for this chapter. There is character death, swearing, and general jackassyness of MI-6 personnel. Also this story will be slash, if that bothers or offends you? Well go read something else. All mistakes are mine, and I'm sorry for any mistakes on Russian geography or spelling. I've never actually been there though I do want to go some day. Anyone with an extra ticket let me know. Lol. Also sorry for not updating for I think close to two years. I have no excuses except that life has been getting in the way. I'll try and update more faithfully but I make no promises. Thanks also to all of you still reading. Your reviews make my day.

Much love,

Lavalata

Disclaimer: Alex Rider does not belong to me, and believe me I'm not making any money on this.

Chapter 4; The Mission

Alex awoke to the blaring sound the alarm and the horrible white light of a florescent bulb.

"For god's sake will they shut that damn thing off?" Alex grumbled before pulling himself to his feet and shedding his pajamas in favor of blue jeans and a sweatshirt. He was tugging on his tennis shoes when Wolf opened his door.

"Cub it's not some shit drill, it's a real mission." Wolf said, he never remembered to call Alex, Hawke. And Alex was pretty sure he had never tried to.

"It's not." Alex grumbled. "They just told you that so you wouldn't beat the shit out of them again." They had been training for close to two months and still there hadn't been a single mission. Just training, stupid, boring, horrible, exhausting, dirty training. And Alex was getting tiered of it.

"No it's the real deal, Jones is here and everything." Wolf said tugging Alex to his feet and tossing him his empty-or so Wolf thought- gun. "Hurry up Cub, maybe we can finally get out of this blasted bunker, see some real people for a change."

Alex sighed and followed Wolf out of the room. It was true that they were all spoiling for a fight, and not just a fight but some civilization as well. It had been ages since Alex had seen a city, or a bus, or human being who wasn't connected with MI-6. And even if they were about to put their necks on the line for something that they didn't really believe in, it would be good to get out and feel free again. Even if they weren't.

_Sixteen Hours Later_

"Sir?" Alan Blunt looked up from his titanium and glass desk where he had been perusing a file to see his second in command in the doorway.

"What is it Mrs. Jones?" Blunt intoned; annoyed at being interrupted though no one would have been able to tell from looking at him.

"Sir we have a situation." She said her face tight with fatigue. "It's Operation Echo. They've been compromised."

"What situation room?" Blunt snapped, rising to his feet and calmly buttoning up his gray suit jacket.

"5E. I recommend that we pull them immediately," Jones said as they walked briskly down the hall to their Major Situations Room.

"Have they accomplished the objective?" Blunt asked opening the door to a room dominated by a screen that covered a whole wall and three tiers of techies typing furiously and squawking into head sets.

"No Sir, it is only partially complete but I fear if we wait any longer the entire team will be a wash." Turning to Crawly who was leaning over the computer screen of a blond haired techie she asked. "Which is showing the Real-time location of our team?"

"Screen three." Crawley answered immediately, indicating a map of St. Petersburg, Russia on the screen.

"We've got them all in this six block radius, but one of them is no longer moving." Crawley said his voice taught with tension.

"Which one?" Blunt asked, moving to stand in the middle of the dimly lit room the glow from the computer screen casting him in an eerie light.

"Amelia Brant, code name Sting." The blond techie informed them zeroing in on the marker so it filled the screen.

"Any chance she is still alive?" Mrs. Jones asked, as she popped a peppermint into her mouth.

"She hasn't moved in over ten minuets. Considering where she is I would say it is highly improbable. Possibly a six percent chance." He answered, typing several more commands into his computer.

"Where is she?" Blunt asked his eyes on the screen in the middle of the room.

"According to the GPS, she's at the foot of the Iron Felix in Lubyanka Square."

"Christ," Crawley cursed as he rubbed tiredly at his temples. "She's at the front door of the Federalnaya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti, this op is blown to hell."

"Where are the others?" Blunt asked as the screen panned back out.

"Wolf, Ace, Fox, and Panther are two streets away moving fast southeast on Novaya Ploshchad'. Hunter, Coyote, Hawke, and Jaguar are still in the building along with Pup."

"Are they being held?" Mrs. Jones said taking a seat in one of the many identical modern and uncomfortable chairs.

"I doubt it; they've been very active for captives. My best guess is that they are trying to complete the operation." Crawley said.

"Do they have any chance of succeeding?" Blunt asked, drumming his fingers along the desk in a rare show of emotion.

"No." The techie said quietly. "The Russians know they are there, it's just a matter of time until they are captured or killed."

"All of them?" Jones murmured almost sadly.

"If the Russians know about the ones in the Lubyanka then they know about the ones on the street. You can bet the reason they're running is that they're being chased." Blond techie replied.

"Terminate the insurance policies." Blunt said, as he stood and walked out of the room.

_Lubyanka Square, St. Petersburg Russia_

Alex Rider ducked around a corner and flung himself into a roll his shoulder hitting the wood floor with a thump. Gunfire exploded where his body had been spraying the wall in front of him with bullets from a semi-automatic machine gun. Alex scrambled across the ground and threw him self through the doorway to where the team (or what was left of it) was hiding. Hands grabbed his wrists and pulled him behind a barricade of modern metal desks.

"Where is it Hawke?" Yassen asked leaning over Alex's body so he could see his face.

"Here." Alex shoved his hand into his shirt's pocket that was situated across his chest pulling out a small hand held computer. Yassen snatched the device from his hand and passed it to Pup.

"Complete the mission," Yassen growled to the frightened looking Pup as Jag pulled Alex the rest of the way behind the barricade. "Hawke, Jag, you're with me. Coyote you cover Pup. We'll try and make a way out of here."

Alex scrambled to a couch and drew a Desert Eagle hand gun from its holster on his back and checked the chamber.

"I've got six in the magazine and another two clips once I run out." Alex said to Jag and Hunter.

"I've got seven, but I lost one of my clips when we got bogged down." Jag whispered. Checking his own gun. "I've got sixteen shots."

"Ok, I've got nineteen left. We pick up what we can on the run. We keep Pup in the middle. Coyote how you doing on ammo?" Yassen asked.

"Alright, I've got seven in the magazine, and tree clips for when I'm done."

"Here's how it's going to go. Hawke and I will take point, Jag will take rear, Coyote you're on guard duty, make sure Pup gets to do what he needs to do." Yassen waited for nods of compliance from them before he stood firing two rapid shoots at the Russian SFB, Alex followed him getting off a round before they jogged back through a narrow door behind them.

It led through a mass of dark hallways, dating back to the KGB days when those from behind the Iron Curtain were held and interrogated there. Two men rounded a corner in front of them and Alex shot one while Yassen got the other.

"Pup, how's it coming?" Yassen asked as he handed one the men's AK47's back to Jag.

"Five more minuets tops." Pup said his hand flying over the device.

Alex and Yassen rounded a corner, guns held at the ready. The hallway was dark the walls unpainted gray metal. Alex took point on the next turn, just ahead a faint light came from beneath a door.

"Possible hostiles on the other side." Yassen said, as they grouped together. "How much longer?" This question was directed at Pup.

"Sixty seconds." He said without raising his head.

"We have to get out of here." Jag added. "Now. Who knows what has happened to the others. Another hour and we'll have missed the rendezvous point. Do you really think MI-6 is going to wait around for us if we're late?"

"We won't escape the SFB if we aren't picked up. Even with Yassen's contacts. We're just sitting ducks." Alex whispered.

"So we go. Maybe we make it maybe we don't." Yassen shrugged. "On my count."

They moved back into position. Alex and Yassen on point, Cub at the center with Coyote shadowing him, Jag at the rear, newly acquired machine gun ready.

"Three, two, one." Alex opened the door and Yassen moved through it Alex hot on his heals. The room was brightly lit, taupe walls, composite desks, and metal filing cabinets. And three heavily armed SFB. Yassen got the first one on the fly with a bullet to the throat. A lucky shot, made not by skill but by fortune. Even the best of assassins couldn't shoot perfectly coming out of a dark hall way and into an unknown room with florescent lighting.

Alex shot the other in the left arm, he toppled with a cry. The third sent a spray of bullets into the wall and door way surrounding them. Alex ducked a second before they hit. They all did. All of them but Pup. He didn't shout or cry. One minuet he was standing and the next he was on the floor. One more lucky shot. Only this one was to the head.

Coyote killed the third SFB man. Ten seconds to late.

"Alex get Coyote." Yassen barked, as he grabbed the small computer from where it fell. Alex's hand shot out and pulled Coyote from where he lay on the floor, eyes wide with shock a spray of Pup's blood across his cheek.

"Not now." Alex said, as Jag jogged past them gun at the ready. "Fall apart later. Now we have to move."

"Pup." Coyote said, his free hand automatically reaching for his fallen friend.

"NOW." Alex snapped hoisting Coyote toward the next door. He reacted as any trained soldier would have when given an order. He went.

They took the rest of the exit at a sprint, not giving any opposition much time to react to their sudden appearance. It went well until they reached the last door standing between them and the Russian night.

And then there he was. Coming from their right flank. Alex only saw him for a second, but his image would be burned into his memory forever. Dark hair, pale skin, a tailored suit, with a red tie, and a gun. And then there was an explosion of pain in his left arm. Still he didn't stop. They hit the streets and a wall of frozen air.

"Go right." Yassen yelled, and as one the moved down the snow covered streets. It took them the better part of forty minuets to get to the river. The Bolshaya Neva and another five to get to the Palace Bridge, by the time they had Alex's arm was numb and his shirt sleeve was soaked through with blood.

At the edge of the bridge a soft voice called out to them.

"Cub, this way." Alex stopped his sprint suddenly and slipped on the slick cobble stones, a pair of strong arms caught him.

"Got ya." Jag said, helping Alex straighten. Wolf stood at the side of the bridge, his gun held casually at his side.

"Down this way. Quick." The followed him down a steep embankment to the waters edge, Jag supporting most of Alex's weight.

A small fishing craft waited for them and they hurried on board, the small loading ramp pulled in moments after Wolf's feet hit the deck.

"Pup?" He asked, Alex his hand going to Alex's shoulder.

"Didn't make it." They stumbled into a small unlit cabin and Jag lowered Alex to the floor. Alex looked around. He counted seven bodies though it was hard to see who they were. They were missing four.

"Who?" The question was asked by Yassen.

"Sting, Panther, and Lynx." Wolf said quietly.

"Pup's gone." Jag said. Coyote let out a shuddering sob. Alex dropped his head. He was long past the point of crying for fallen comrades. And he envied Coyote his tears.


End file.
